


Seasons

by Crookes



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Uhtred and Finan having each others backs, coccham squad being supportive, fond exasperation, oblivious Uhtred, slow burn - ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24408784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crookes/pseuds/Crookes
Summary: Uhtred watches the seasons pass and the world changes and doesn't change at all.
Relationships: Finan/Uhtred of Bebbanburg
Comments: 18
Kudos: 66





	Seasons

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty have some more Uhtred/Finan because I will never not love them. This took me longer to finish than I'd care to admit because my brain is a disaster and the different parts aren't in the least bit symmetrical in length which bothers me more than it should, again because my brain is a disaster, but I really hope you like it!
> 
> A couple things for reference:  
> -I've placed Uhtred at Fagranforda because it's in Mercia and I needed him to be in Mercia though he's not actually at Fagranforda in the books or show for where I've put them in the timeline, it was just convenient.  
> -Speaking of, timeline wise its post S4 so between The Empty Throne and Warriors of the Storm for the books buuuut I have definitely taken liberties with both the show and books. I have a habit of picking and choosing what I like from each so just bear with me 🙏  
> -TV show watchers: a heads up, when I refer to Uhtred's son, Uhtred the younger, I'm referring to his third child who became his heir and was renamed from Osbert to Uhtred exactly like our Uhtred was when he was a kid because of the whole Uhtred's firstborn joining the priesthood shindig. Also Uhtred the younger is 19 like he is in The Pagan Lord which is meant to be the first half of season 4, I think everyone's younger in the show because the books have more time skips but I don't really know, either way in my head Uhtred's second son is 19. 
> 
> I think that's the most important stuff so here goes -

Winter:

It was a rare occurrence that Uhtred and Finan travelled alone these days but Uhtred found himself doing so now. They expected no trouble on the road after all, the country once again at peace. Uhtred mistrusted it would last as always but he was grateful for the reprieve however short it turned out to be.

Edward had sent word calling Uhtred to Lundene and so he must go. It was ostensibly an impromptu gathering of ealdormen to discuss the building of the burhs across the borders of Wessex and Mercia. Uhtred had been tasked with overseeing the progress of some of the burhs nearest Fagranforda the past year and was summoned to make a report.

It was a thin excuse, the report Edward likely wanted was on how Aethelflaed fared as ruler of Mercia. Aethelhelm would dislike Uhtred being there and Edward would only have insisted for this reason.

Edward would be out of luck, Uhtred thought bitterly. Uhtred would say no more than what he was sure Edward’s spies had already gleaned.

He had decided to bring only Finan because he expected to be there and gone in a day. Or at least he hoped. He also preferred to leave his men at home with his son, who had temporary control of the estate. Most of his household troops would simply carry on about their business but Uhtred knew Sihtric and Osferth were fond of the boy and would keep a close eye.

Though Uhtred resented the destination the journey had proved enjoyable. He and Finan had set out early that morning, the air biting but the sky clear, and followed the Roman roads towards Lundene at an almost lazy pace. Neither of them felt much like hurrying.

Finan had chattered away most of the day, reliving battles, relaying alehouse tales and poking fun at some of the younger household troops’ attempts in the practice yard. Uhtred knew that his closest friend was attempting to distract him and found himself easily swayed.

It was hard not to enjoy Finan’s company. By midday they had laughed enough to make their bellies ache and by dusk they had fallen into companionable silence.

Uhtred watched as a flock of geese flew north across the sky, deeper into Mercia, and hoped that it was a good omen.

“We should make camp soon Lord,” Finan interrupted his thoughts and nodded pointedly at the darkening sky.

He was right, the temperature was dropping even further as well and they would need shelter before their hands froze to their horses bridles.

“There’s some woodland there,” Uhtred replied, pointing out a copse of trees about half a mile south-east of them.

“That’ll do,” Finan grinned and spurred his horse into a gallop, he had been riding close next to Uhtred but now he pulled ahead, his challenge clear.

“Bastard!” Uhtred yelled after him but he was grinning too as he chased after.

The distance was short and they were soon hitching up the horses nearest the only patch of grass that seemed not to have succumbed to frost.

They set about collecting firewood as Finan gloated that he had won the race he had instigated but Uhtred had his revenge when he managed to trip Finan into a pile of mud and leaves. Finan cursed at him but Uhtred was too busy laughing and they reached a truce.

Between them the makeshift camp was arranged with a swiftness borne of familiarity.

Finan sparked the fire as Uhtred gathered the furs from the horses for their beds. Finally they sat down to a meal of salted herrings and ale, watching the soft crackle of the fire.

“You still have a leaf in your hair,” Uhtred snickered and leaned over to pluck it out.

Finan rolled his eyes but didn’t grumble. Uhtred felt a burst of well-worn affection for his friend.

“It’s amazing how much less bickering there is over tasks when it’s just the two of us,” Uhtred continued.

“I can bicker if you want, Lord,” Finan teased, “just say the word and I’ll complain all you like.”

“Have mercy, no, I am enjoying the peace,” Uhtred laughed.

Finan smiled in return, food finished he flopped onto his back with a satisfied sigh.

“It is peaceful,” Finan hummed.

Uhtred glanced sideways at his friend and then up at the sky where Finan was looking.

Night had settled around them as swift as Odin’s temper and through the winter bare tree branches they could see the stars that had begun to appear.

Though he was everywhere cold but for where the fire lit his face, Uhtred felt a warmth settle in his bones.

He was glad of this moment. Quietude was rare in Uhtred’s life.

It passed, as all moments do, but Uhtred felt he would remember it, keep it tucked under his breastbone in darker times.

With a final swig of ale Uhtred roused himself to move under the furs on the other side of the fire and get some sleep.

He prodded Finan but the Irishman sat up and waved him off.

“I’ll sit a while longer,” Finan explained.

His voice seemed heavy and Uhtred looked at him searchingly but something in his friend’s expression decided Uhtred that it was not the time to pry so he let it be.

After several moments had passed and Uhtred was well ensconced under the furs, Finan began to sing.

It was soft, quiet, so that if Uhtred had been asleep he would not have heard it. It was a song in Finan’s native tongue, Uhtred had heard Finan sing Irish songs before, often when they were at sea. Sometimes it was just to provide a beat for the rowers, other times it was simply when the mood took him but Uhtred did not think he had heard Finan sing something that sounded so sad before.

Uhtred did not understand the words but he felt an echoing sadness in his midriff all the same and found himself biting down on his tongue to halt the moisture that suddenly stung at the corner of his eyes. 

Part of him wanted to speak up, interrupt his friend if only to stop Finan from sounding so mournful. A larger part of him instinctively felt that if he spoke up he would be treading on dangerous ground. Uhtred could not remember ever feeling unsure of where he stood with Finan but now as he lay in the dark listening to those foreign words, he felt unsure.

Eventually Finan quietened and there was no sound but for the hiss of the fire and the cry of a bird in the darkness. Uhtred waited, his heartbeat slowing.

When it seemed nothing would happen, Uhtred sighed, his breath misting above him, and sat up on his elbows.

“Come on,” Uhtred prompted.

Finan looked up from where he was hunched over the fire, arms wrapped around himself.

“What?”

“We’ll freeze to death like this, better to double up the furs and share warmth,” Uhtred explained, gesturing to the space next to him.

“And what, pray tell, makes you think I want to share furs with your poxy arse Lord?” Finan feigned annoyance.

“Don’t be an earsling, you’re sitting there shivering like a newborn. Besides it’s not like we haven’t huddled for warmth before,” Uhtred pointed out, the ghost of being shackled in Sverri’s pigs hut on a distant shore passing through both their minds.

“Fine,” Finan huffed exaggeratedly, “but the instant you start snoring I’m punching you.”

“I don’t snore!” Uhtred protested.

“You bloody do Lord!” Finan retorted even whilst he took his own furs from around his shoulders and dumped them unceremoniously on top of Uhtred. Uhtred was still spluttering with indignation as Finan slid under the furs next to him with a teasing grin.

“No-one else has ever complained,” Uhtred pointed out.

“That’s because we’re usually camping with the men and there are so many others snoring that it goes unnoticed. The only time you share a bed with someone in privacy is usually with a woman and they’re unlikely to complain when they’re getting something else out of the bargain,” Finan replied.

Sensing that Uhtred was pouting in bemused silence the Irishman knocked his shoulder against Uhtred’s good-humouredly.

“Well shit,” Uhtred laughed and turned slightly under the furs towards Finan, “does that mean you wouldn’t be bothered by my snoring if I were to bed you?”

Even in the dim light of the fire and the stars Finan could see the playful tilt of Uhtred’s smirk.

Finan shoved Uhtred so hard that he completely rolled out the other side of the furs, cackling all the way.

“What is it Father Beocca used to say? Will you never tire of teasing?”

“Never,” Uhtred grinned. Finan glared at him and held onto the furs, denying Uhtred entry.

“Alright, shit, I’m sorry,” Uhtred held his hands up in surrender and Finan huffed, letting go of the furs slightly. Uhtred hurriedly got back under the warmth, even just a few seconds outside and he could feel the biting chill right to the back of his teeth.

“Why are you blushing like a maiden who’s just had her virtue questioned?” Uhtred laughed, apparently not learning his lesson despite the cold.

“And why are you throwing your wares around like an alehouse whore?” Finan bit back, though he was laughing as well.

“Go the fuck to sleep already, Lord,” Finan continued eventually, “we have to be up before dawn if we’re to make it to Lundene in time.”

Uhtred hummed and shuffled down further under the furs, smiling as he drifted off, the ache in his chest having passed like a summer squall.

And if Finan stayed awake a bit longer, watching the stars and listening to the soft rumble of Uhtred’s snores beside him then no-one need know but him.

Spring:

The conditions were awful, fog lay thick over the land and the morning dew made the ground slippery and treacherous. Still there was no choice, if they didn’t confront Sigurd’s army now it would only grow into a bigger problem and Edward was still very much finding his feet as King.

Uhtred and thirty of his household troops had spent days picking at the rearguard of Sigurd’s army, killing scouts but always letting at least one escape so as to carry word back to their Jarl. Uhtred knew that Sigurd wasn’t stupid, he would have guessed that Uhtred was trying to lure him into a chase but eventually either annoyance or belief in his numbers had persuaded Sigurd to turn and meet them.

It had led to here, a hill near Ledecestre where Uhtred had joined with Aethelflaed’s Mercian troops. Aethelflaed had sent Merewalh to lead whilst she rode with a small guard to tell Edward where to meet them.

Merewalh was a good man, but cautious, and he was worrying.

“There are only seven hundred of us Lord and we cannot see a thing, surely it is better to retreat and wait for Aethelflaed to return with Edward’s army?” Merewalh argued.

“It is a good hill to make a stand on and the fog will clear,” Uhtred argued back, “if we abandon our advantage now we risk being surrounded, Aethelflaed and Edward will get here and in the meantime this is the best defensible position that we have at our disposal, trust me.”

“Very well, Lord, I will continue helping the men to prepare,” Merewalh turned his horse back to camp, Uhtred thought that he heard the man muttering as he went.

Uhtred sighed and touched the hammer at his neck, praying that he was right, that the fog would clear and Edward’s army would arrive and the gods would look favourably on him that day.

“The fog will clear, Lord,” Finan spoke from beside him, sensing that Uhtred was doubting his own words.

Uhtred smiled at his companion, “Will it?”

“Of course it will, and if it doesn’t we’ll kill the bastards anyway,” Finan grinned and Uhtred laughed.

“And if all goes amiss and it is our fate to die here today?” Uhtred asked.

“We die together,” Finan responded simply.

“We die together,” Uhtred affirmed and they rode back to camp to try and ensure that that would not be their fate.

By the grace of the gods the fog did begin to ease off, not entirely, but enough.

The sun filtered through weakly just in time for them to see Sigurd’s forces gathering near the bottom of the hill. Edward’s army had not arrived yet and Uhtred knew he needed to buy time.

“What’s the plan?” Finan asked him, spotting the calculating look in his eye.

“It will be a hard slog up that hill and they know that even if they do overwhelm us many will die in the fight but they will still screw up their courage to it eventually,” Uhtred commented.

“Aye they will, so?” Finan prompted.

“So we delay that courage and give Edward and Aethelflaed enough time to reach us. We frighten them,” Uhtred answered clapping Finan on the shoulder with a predatory smile before he laid out his plan.

“Sweet Jesus,” Finan laughed when he had heard it all, “you’re a mad bastard but that may just work.”

“Pray it does,” Uhtred replied and Finan left to spread word amongst the ranks. A moment later Merewalh moved to stand next to him.

“I heard your plan from Finan,” Merewalh commented. Uhtred nodded to acknowledge he had heard the man but kept his eyes on Sigurd’s army. “Much of it will depend on him,” the man continued.

“I trust him more than anyone,” Uhtred replied, turning to look at the Mercian. Merewalh held his gaze for a moment but seemed satisfied by whatever he found there and broke the stare, looking back across the land to where Sigurd’s men had begun to line up to form a shield-wall.

It was time.

When Uhtred found where his men were gathered in the front rank his son passed his wolf-crested helmet to him. Uhtred the younger was grinning fiercely, his face covered in stripes of mud.

“This will be fun, father,” the boy commented.

“War is not fun brat,” Uhtred responded dutifully, cuffing his son around the ear, but the boy stayed smiling.

Finan laughed at the two of them, his face also covered in mud, and Uhtred sighed in exasperation before bending to gather some mud and cover his own face as well.

He was not wrong, war was not fun, it stank of blood and piss and vomit and the fear of death could be overwhelming. Uhtred’s men and Aethelflaed’s men knew that they were outnumbered whatever the advantage the hill gave them and so they felt that fear, like a prickle of sweat at the back of your neck that you cannot wipe away.

And so the only thing to do was to make the enemy more afraid than them.

The first few ranks had slathered their faces in mud so that they would appear as blackened demons looming from the fog. There was plenty of mud to be had on the dampened ground and Finan had organised the men to paint their faces swiftly and well.

“Shield! Wall!” Uhtred called and heard the clatter as the shields interlocked across the line. “Any other day you are men but not today! Today you are wolves! And we will send these sheep-turds bleating and crying back to their mothers!”

A cry went up from the Mercians.

“So howl you bastards! Howl like the bloodthirsty wolves you are! For Mercia and for Wessex!” Uhtred yelled and then began the war-beat, drumming his sword handle against his shield.

The rest of their small army picked up the beat, knocking against their shields as they began to howl and scream. Uhtred kept the beat slow, he wanted it to be eery, discomfiting to the enemy.

It had begun to work, the enemy was close enough now that Uhtred could see Sigurd’s scarred face clearly but he was hesitating instead of approaching further.

And so came the final part of Uhtred’s plan.

Finan was stood to Uhtred’s right in the shield wall as he always was, the front line packed tight enough that their arms were pressed against each other as Uhtred nudged him. If anything was wolfish it was the smile Finan gave him then.

Finan broke from the shield-wall and stalked towards the enemy, passing his shield to Sihtric who quickly came up from behind to bridge the gap.

And then Finan began to scream.

Finan had a smaller frame than Uhtred but Uhtred knew that that could be deceiving. There was a fierceness in Finan’s strength, he had endured uncounted hardships but he had arisen from all. He was Finan the Agile, in battle he danced around his enemies as he killed them and he danced now.

Finan spun as he screamed and spat his Irish curses towards the Danes. Uhtred lost track of the war-beat watching his friend but the men were continuing it on their own now anyway. If they lived through this day Uhtred would buy Finan a whole tavern’s worth of ale, the wild Irishman was even better than he had hoped.

Uhtred did not know how many or if any of Sigurd’s men had raided in Ireland before now but he knew that all would have heard the stories. Many Danes had tried to settle in Ireland just as they did here but all had retreated with heavy losses and the Irish had become a horror story told to Danish children at night.

“We fight like mad dogs,” Finan had once told Uhtred proudly and Uhtred believed him.*

Uhtred heard Sigurd yelling at his men, trying to get them to advance, but they were watching Finan warily.

Finan crowed and laughed and shouted at them in his native tongue. Then he spun around and bared his arse to them and Uhtred let out a surprised burst of laughter, Sihtric snickered next to him as well.

“He might be enjoying this too much, Lord,” Sihtric joked.

“He’s definitely enjoying this too much,” Uhtred laughed again.

Then Uhtred’s attention was drawn away because Sigurd had let out a cry of frustration and begun to ride towards Finan, his intention to challenge the man to a one-on-one fight clear.

It may have been a decision made out of pride but it was a canny decision as well. If Sigurd won it would restore his men’s confidence.

Uhtred tensed and looked back at Finan, who was now thankfully redressed and spitting at Sigurd. Finan was as skilled with a blade as any man Uhtred had ever known but Sigurd was also a warrior of renown.

Uhtred felt trapped, it should be his fight, he had dragged them all to this hill and he should be the one to face the consequences if there were to be any, not Finan. Not Finan.

But to intervene now would also be an insult to his friend and Uhtred could not bear that either.

Uhtred grit his teeth and tried to ignore the thump of his heartbeat that had somehow managed to drown out the thump of sword against shield that surrounded him.

And then a different sound broke through. A horn.

Edward’s army had arrived.

The next few moments were a flurry. The war-beat ceased and a cheer went up from the Mercians, Uhtred could just make out where Aethelflaed rode next to her brother, both their flag-bearers close behind.

Sigurd turned his horse sharply back to his own army and called for them to advance as Finan sprinted to take back his shield and resume his place at Uhtred’s side just as the horn sounded again. The two armies moved.

War was not fun but there was a certain joy in it. It was a cruel joy, Uhtred knew, he killed another so that he might live, and another, and another, and another. With every man that Uhtred killed that did not kill him he could feel his blood sing, he felt invincible.

The Danes shield-wall had begun to crack but it was not yet broken. Finan sliced at the arm of the Dane in front of them and his shield dropped just enough for Uhtred to ram his seax, Wasp-Sting, into the gap, piercing the man’s throat.

The Dane dropped with a gurgle and they pushed forwards.

It seemed endless, bloody work but suddenly the Dane’s gave way and the shield-wall was in disarray.

“Bebbanburg!” Uhtred screamed his war-cry.

“Bebbanburg!” Finan and Uhtred’s son echoed and followed him into the fray, tasting victory. Uhtred put away Wasp-Sting and drew Serpent-Breath now that there was more room.

Uhtred was looking for Sigurd as he hacked his way through and finally he spotted him.

“Sigurd!” Uhtred yelled and the man turned to face him. With a snarl the Dane came to meet his blade.

Sigurd was a brute of a man, not as large as Steapa but almost a head taller than Uhtred. Sigurd swung at him with a visceral cry and Uhtred felt the blow reverberate up his arm as he parried.

Sigurd kept moving forward, trying to use his sheer strength to beat Uhtred into submission, Uhtred parried some blows and side-stepped others, waiting for an opportunity.

Sigurd was angry, he knew he had lost and he was desperate to at least die as the man who had killed Uhtred of Bebbanburg. That desperation made him stupid and Uhtred needed only a second. It only took one clumsy thrust and Uhtred’s sword was suddenly in Sigurd’s guts.

The Dane cried out, half pain, half fury and in a moment of battle-madness lunged forward at Uhtred, piercing himself further on Serpent-Breath but still swinging madly at Uhtred. Uhtred managed to withdraw his sword meaning to make a back-swing at Sigurd and so end it but abruptly found himself on the ground, the wind knocked out of him as he tripped backwards over a corpse.

Uhtred lifted Serpent-Breath above his head and braced himself for the final blow of a dying man but it did not come.

“You’re losing your touch, Lord. You’re not getting old on me now, are you?”

“If I’m getting old, you’re getting old!” Uhtred retorted, taking the hand proffered to him with a grateful smile. Once he was on his feet he clapped Finan on the shoulder and left his hand there as he recovered his breath for a moment, looking down at Sigurd’s corpse.

Uhtred turned away and found Finan gazing steadily at him with a smile, it was half a heartbeat of peace and then Uhtred saw movement in the corner of his eye, a red-haired man who looked more Scot than Dane swung his axe at Finan’s back.

With a swiftness borne of years of practice as much as sheer instinct Uhtred twisted Finan out the way and blocked the axe before it met it’s target. Uhtred knocked the axe away from him and Serpent-Breath swung down to take another life.

Uhtred looked up to see that the battle was over, the Dane’s that were left were fleeing. Some of Edward’s and Aethelflaed’s forces were mounting their horses to chase after them but Uhtred had no taste for hunting down the remnants.

Perhaps Finan was right and they were getting old.

Uhtred sheathed Serpent-Breath and gazed across the battle-field, searching out his men, finally he spotted them.

“Osferth!” Uhtred called, “Where’s my idiot son?”

“He’s here Lord,” Osferth replied, turning to the side to reveal Uhtred the younger next to him, the boy was covered in blood but it did not look like his own. Osferth ruffled the boy’s hair, he was still smiling.

“Come on, the King can deal with the clean-up, I think we deserve a drink,” Finan commented and began walking back up the hill to their men.

Uhtred followed behind. Watching his friend’s back he thought, not for the first time, that he would not have survived that day without Finan.

Summer:

Uhtred was sweating. He was not wearing full mail, only a leather jerkin but that felt heavy enough as he went through the motions.

Hook. Pull. Lunge. Parry. Dodge.

He could tell that his men were tired also as they went through drills but they would thank him when it saved their lives in battle. A dull blade was a useless blade so Uhtred kept is men sharp.

The sun shone high in the sky, bright and unforgiving in a cloudless sea of blue. Across the way men and women worked in the fields and behind him he could hear children laughing as they chased chickens across the courtyard.

Fagranforda prospered and Uhtred was glad of it but he felt restless so he had joined Finan in teaching the household troops for the day. Finan was yelling at said troops on the other side of the practice yard, focused on the task at hand.

Uhtred though, kept feeling his mind drift so he called for the men to pair up and practice their sword skill one-on-one.

“Finan!” Uhtred gestured to the Irishman who left the men to their business and closed the distance between them.

“Lord?”

“The men should take a break for some food and drink, I could do with it as well if I’m honest as I’m sure you could,” Uhtred explained, he could see the sweat beading on Finan’s forehead, watched as a trickle made its way down the side of his friend’s neck, and knew they could both do with the reprieve.

“I’ll get some of the girls to bring it out,” Finan squeezed Uhtred’s shoulder briefly with a smile and headed off to do just that.

Uhtred remained with the men, keeping an eye on their practice and calling out when he spotted particularly sloppy parries. His attention was still only half there though, Uhtred didn’t understand what was wrong with him lately.

By all accounts he should be happy, there was peace again, he lived comfortably and his children were all safe. Not that he spoke to his eldest son but he kept an ear out for any news of him and the boy was apparently happy as a priest even if Uhtred could never understand it.

Stiorra sent word from Eoferwic whenever she could, she was flourishing into a fine woman, sure of herself and absolutely deadly if the situation called for it. She reminded Uhtred so much of her mother. 

Uhtred’s younger son could be a handful sometimes and had probably slept with half the local women if rumours were to be believed but Uhtred was proud of him, he was decent, a skilled warrior and for all that Uhtred chided him for being daft, he was clever.

Uhtred should be happy.

But there was an itch in his bones and the feeling of a word on the tip of his tongue that he could not quite grasp.

Perhaps it was Bebbanburg he yearned for, the lost dream, but Uhtred couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it. Whenever he thought of his heritage there was a nebulous feeling of loss, yes, but mostly just anger.

Whatever this feeling was, it wasn’t anger, it felt more like a heavy longing for something he had never had.

Uhtred was interrupted in his musings by the arrival of the food and called for his men to halt their practice and take a break.

Finan and Sihtric’s wife led the way with flagons of ale, Ealhswith muttered something to Finan with a mischievous smile and Finan threw his head back in laughter. Uhtred felt off-balance suddenly, wrong-footed and clumsy.

He shook his head to clear it and walked over to his friends, he definitely needed a drink if the heat was starting to make him light-headed.

Ealhswith smiled at him as he approached and nodded a quick ‘Lord’ in acknowledgement before walking over to Sihtric. Sihtric was already half-way to her, his grin as lovesick as the day he had married her.

“Hang on, I’ve got some cups here, I’ll pour us a drink” Finan interjected and Uhtred looked back at the Irishman who was now trying to extricate a cup from under his arm without spilling the flagon of ale.

“I can-” Uhtred started, hand reaching to help, why he didn’t just take the flagon only the gods knew but Uhtred reached instead to help remove the cups and found his arm trapped between the flagon and Finan’s chest and their faces far too close for Uhtred’s comfort.

Finan blinked at him for a moment and Uhtred withdrew his hand so quickly that it was a miracle only the cups were knocked to the floor and not the whole jug of ale.

Uhtred laughed to cover up the awkwardness but soon found he couldn’t stop, caught up in the ridiculousness of it all. Finan burst into laughter as well and then they were just stood there giggling like fools.

Osferth arrived from somewhere and looked at them both like they had gone mad, it didn’t help to quell their laughter.

“Do you need a hand with that?” Osferth said finally, Uhtred shook his head, laughter subsiding.

“I’ve got it,” Uhtred bent to pick up the cups and made to join the rest of the men, Finan and Osferth in tow.

Behind him Osferth shot a raised eyebrow at Finan but the Irishman just smiled and shook his head, knocking his shoulder against his friends’.

“Shut up, baby monk,”

“I never said a word!” Osferth protested but he was smiling as well.

By the time their makeshift meal had been finished the sun was beginning to ease off a little. Some of the servants were clearing up the mess they had made and the men quietened as Uhtred stood to call them back to practice.

Uhtred was trying to organise them back into groups to run drills, with Finan helping a few yards away, when one of the younger Danes called out.

“How about you show us how it’s done, Lord? You and Finan!” the rest of the men cheered in agreement.

Uhtred looked over at the man who had spoken up, Berg he thought, and then looked at Finan.

Finan grinned and shrugged.

Well, if giving the men a demonstration would persuade them more easily back to drills after then Uhtred couldn’t see the harm. They clearly wanted it more for entertainment purposes than to learn anything but Uhtred couldn’t begrudge them it.

Besides it would be fun for Uhtred as well, it had been a while since he and Finan had sparred.

“Alright you earslings, watch how real men do it!” Uhtred shouted at them, swinging Serpent-Breath round in his hand as the men moved back to give him and Finan space.

Neither he nor Finan picked up a shield though the men were being taught with them, the moment didn’t seem to call for it.

“First one to knock the other on his arse wins?” Uhtred asked Finan.

“Sounds fair, hope you’re ready to get knocked flat, Lord,” Finan teased.

Uhtred smirked, accepting the challenge.

They moved around each other cautiously, step, step, pause.

Uhtred broke the stalemate by feinting left and turning to aim at Finan’s leg to unbalance him, but Finan, quick as ever, had already moved to block.

Uhtred swung again, straight on this time, expecting Finan to block but hoping the strength behind the movement might still knock Finan off his guard. It didn’t, Finan had already ducked the move and now swiped at Uhtred’s side. Uhtred withdrew his lunge and knocked Finan’s sword away just in time.

They danced around each other, trading blows again and again. Uhtred knew his muscles might regret the exertion later but for now he felt completely and utterly alive. The men whooped and hollered around them, enjoying the show of skill.

And it was skill, Uhtred’s strength and Finan’s speed were well-matched.

Uhtred blocked a lunge and twisted slightly to the left, the sun was at the corner of his eye and he needed to move if he wanted to avoid being blinded.

Unfortunately for him, in trying to prevent an opening he had created one and Finan suddenly stepped into his space. Between one breath and the next Finan had hold of Uhtred’s wrist on his sword hand, keeping Serpent-Breath out the way, and his own blade, Soul Stealer against Uhtred’s throat.

Uhtred brought his free hand up to grab at Finan’s wrist and try and force him back but Finan wasn’t easy to budge.

“You haven’t won yet, I’m not on the floor,” Uhtred grinned wolfishly, he needed time and distraction if he was going to twist himself out of Finan’s hold. It was a little hard to focus when Finan was so close that Uhtred could feel every exhale of the man’s breath against his lips, but Uhtred was nothing if not competitive.

“Oh I can get you on your back if that’s what you want... Lord,” Finan countered.

Uhtred thought that it must be a trick of the light but it seemed to him that Finan’s eyes got darker and Uhtred could still feel Finan’s breath on his face and there was a knot in his chest that felt as if it would crack his ribs open if Uhtred gave it half a chance.

Things suddenly didn’t seem very much like a joke but Uhtred needed it to be, he desperately needed it to be because he wasn’t sure what the alternative was but he was sure that it was terrifying and there would be no coming back from it.

Before Uhtred could think of anything to break the tension however Finan had wrapped a foot around the back of his calf and Uhtred was suddenly on the ground with Finan stepping away, victorious.

The men cheered and Finan laughed, Uhtred rolled his eyes and huffed out his own amusement, the knot in his chest easing as his attention was drawn back to their surroundings.

Finan winked at him and proffered a hand, Uhtred took it graciously, rising to his feet with a half-hearted ‘bastard’.

“Alright! Back to drills!” Uhtred calls and the men organise themselves into groups accordingly.

They spent the rest of the afternoon training peaceably and Uhtred tried not to scratch the back of his wrist where he could still feel the warmth of Finan’s hand.

Autumn:

Uhtred had a plan.

It was not a plan Edward or indeed Aethelflaed would approve of but it was a plan nonetheless. Not even his own men seemed to approve though and that was frustrating him.

“So many things could go wrong, Lord,” Osferth argued.

They were sat around the central table in Fagranforda’s main hall, Uhtred, Finan, Osferth, Sihtric, Father Cuthbert and Uhtred’s son, drinking and arguing.

Father Cuthbert was a good man as priests go, he had been the one to officiate Edwards marriage to his first wife and so had fled to Uhtred’s protection when Edward was married to Aelflaed and Aethelhelm set about squashing any rumour that the first marriage had taken place at all. It gave Uhtred some satisfaction knowing that Aethelhelm would love to get his hands on the priest and was thus thwarted.

Besides the Christians in his service needed a priest and the man could drink most of them under the table so he was decent enough company and by that merit was not immediately ousted from their impromptu meeting.

“We won’t be there long enough for anything to go wrong,” Uhtred argued back at Osferth.

“Going there at all is inviting danger,” Osferth countered.

“He’s not wrong, Lord,” Sihtric put in, “any Dane would leap at the chance of killing you for the reputation and glory and you’re walking right into their grasp, why not send one of the men? Or one of us?”

“And hear everything second-hand, third-hand? No, I need to make my own judgements,” Uhtred insisted.

“But father isn’t it just poking the hornet’s nest?” Uhtred’s son commented.

“It’s making sure the damn hornets stay in their nest,” Uhtred growled and felt suitably guilty when his son’s face deflated a little.

Uhtred sighed.

“Finan?”

Finan shrugged and took a swig of the ale he had been nursing.

“I don’t think you’ll be dissuaded and if you go, I go.”

“Then it’s settled, we leave tomorrow,” Uhtred nodded and then stood to leave, wanting only to extricate himself from the whole mess before he got more churlish.

Not that he wasn’t churlish in general lately, the restlessness hadn’t left him, if anything it had gotten worse and Uhtred knew now that it was tied to Finan somehow. He felt on edge out of his company and more on edge in his company.

He knew that the Irishman sensed Uhtred had withdrawn from him a little and he knew too that Finan didn’t understand why and was hurt by it but Uhtred wouldn’t know how to explain it to him if he tried.

Uhtred stood outside the hall and breathed in the night air. He was glad that he had brought his ale with him at least and gulped it down hoping to numb the burning in is chest.

It didn’t work. It never did.

Uhtred tossed the empty mug to the side, too lazy and inexplicably upset to do anything else.

Finan found him outside a moment later still glaring at the ground.

“They’re just worried, Lord,” Finan told him, “they know if anyone can sneak into Daneland and back out it’s you but you know them, they care – _we_ care,” Finan finished quietly.

Uhtred sighed and turned more fully towards Finan, lifting his hand to Finan’s shoulder, trying to reassure him.

“I understand, I know that it’s a little reckless but we’ve done things more reckless than this before,” Uhtred smiled, Finan rolled his eyes but couldn’t disagree, “and I think I need to get out for a while so I might as well do something productive,” Uhtred admitted.

He also wanted Finan to himself so he could try and figure out what was going on between them but Uhtred wasn’t ready to say that.

“Alright, I get it,” Finan sighed.

“Thank you,” Uhtred replied sincerely, squeezing Finan’s shoulder.

They looked at each other a moment and Uhtred realised it was the closest he had allowed them to be in a while. He took the chance to catalogue Finan’s face, noting familiar scars and new lines at the corners of his eyes from where they crinkled when he laughed.

It was a face Uhtred knew better than his own.

“Uhtred,” Finan said softly and Uhtred thought how nice his name sounded in Finan’s lilting accent.

“Mm?” Uhtred hummed, not quite trusting himself to speak.

Uhtred realised that they had leaned into each other’s space, close enough now that he could feel Finan’s breath, hear it when Finan swallowed.

Uhtred wasn’t sure what he wanted exactly but he wanted, he wanted –

“Lord? Are you out here?”

Finan startled backwards and Uhtred blinked, spell broken, his arm dropping to his side.

“I’ll go make sure the provisions are all packed for the morning Lord,” Finan told him, his voice sounded gravelly and he cleared his throat awkwardly and left, walking past Osferth with a friendly wave.

Despite that Osferth must have seen something on Finan’s face because he frowned and half reached out to the Irishman but Finan was already gone.

“Everything alright Lord?” Osferth asked as he walked over.

“Yeah, just making plans,” Uhtred answered, trying to dismiss the concern in Osferth’s gaze, “did you need something? I could do with another drink so I was just heading back in.”

“Oh, I just wanted to check we hadn’t caused offense,” Osferth explained, looking at Uhtred searchingly.

“You didn’t, all’s well,” Uhtred smiled. Osferth nodded, Uhtred thought that would be the end of it but Osferth hesitated, seeming to want to say more.

“Lord, if I may?”

“Yes?”

“I think perhaps you should take someone other than Finan with you, I would be happy to accompany you, or I’m sure Sihtric would as well,” Osferth offered.

“Why?” Uhtred asked, frowning in confusion.

“It’s just that perhaps, I mean, perhaps it would be better if you had some time apart,” Osferth explained reluctantly.

Uhtred looked at him with a brow raised in query and then he realised. He realised that Osferth was trying to protect Finan, protect him from Uhtred.

And if there was something to protect him from then there was _something._

Uhtred smiled suddenly and was a little gratified when Osferth gaped in bafflement.

“It will be fine Osferth, trust me,” Uhtred assured him, cuffing him gently about the ear in a gesture that was more fond than reprimanding. “Come on, the ale won’t drink itself,” Uhtred joked, leading the way back into the hall.

Sihtric appeared just as he was entering the doors.

“Lord?”

“You’re going the wrong way Sihtric,” Uhtred answered, carrying on forward.

“Yes Lord,” behind Uhtred Sihtric raised an eyebrow at Osferth but Osferth just threw up his hands in bemusement, as confused as Sihtric was by Uhtred’s turn of mood.

They left when it was still dark the next morning, it had rained during the night and Uhtred breathed in the smell of damp earth, content to be on the move.

He had removed any decoration that indicated his status as an ealdorman, wearing only a plain linen tunic and a thin shirt of mail with a cloak thrown over it. He still carried Serpent-Breath and Wasp-Sting with him but he was loathe to leave them behind, and he could always hide Serpent-Breath’s distinctive hilt under his cloak.

If all went to plan he would not be doing any fighting after all.

They were headed to a town in East Anglia that Uhtred had been told was still under Danish control despite East Anglia supposedly now having submitted to Aethelflaed’s rule.

The intention was to spy, rumours were afloat that a Jarl that had been sworn to Sigurd had escaped the battle at Ledecestre and was now trying to amass a new army to push back against Mercia and Wessex.

Uhtred needed to know how much of a threat they posed.

He rode Tintreg, his favourite horse, and chatted easily with Finan as they made their way east, the awkwardness of the night before put aside for now.

It was night-time and the rain had started again by the time they reached the town of Eleg.

They stopped and found somewhere to hitch their horses before they entered the town, close enough for a quick escape if needed but out of sight so that people may think they were just poor wanderers.

“So what now?” Finan asked, pulling his cloak tighter about him, both to ward off the cold and hide his mail. Uhtred did the same.

“We find the busiest alehouse and we wait,” Uhtred answered, leading the way.

Uhtred kept a sharp eye for anyone who might recognise him as they walked through the town but no-one spared them a second glance.

It wasn’t difficult to find a popular tavern, you just had to follow the noise, and Uhtred and Finan were soon in the warmth. They pushed their hoods back, knowing it would be more conspicuous to leave them up, but kept their cloaks wrapped about them to disguise their armour.

Uhtred called to the barkeep for some ale and the man smiled as he brought over a couple of mugs.

“Not seen you lads round here before, new to the town?” the man asked.

“Just passing through,” Uhtred smiled, “What’s it like here? Every town we’ve gone through so far is full of priests so it’s nice to have a break from them.”

Finan snorted into his mug and the barkeep laughed.

“Oh there’s a couple of ‘em holed up in the church on the other side of town but they don’t come in here much,”

“Well it seems that without the priests you seem to get plenty of interesting people through your doors,” Uhtred continued.

“Oh we do! We do!”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got any outrageous stories, a man like you must have seen all sorts! My friend and I have travelled a long way and we could do with a laugh,” Uhtred smiled.

“Well, I mean I should be getting back to – “

Uhtred spun a coin on the table pointedly.

“I’m sure my children can manage,” the man pulled up a stool and sat with them.

Uhtred pushed the coin across the table and let the man pocket it.

“Well, like you say, lots of interesting folk come through here,” the barkeep continued, “what would you like to hear about?”

Encouraged Uhtred flipped another coin onto the table and let the man reach for it greedily before snatching it back.

“Has there been anyone recruiting round here?” Uhtred asked quietly. The man squinted at him suspiciously and Uhtred touched the hammer at his neck, drawing the mans gaze and hopefully convincing him that he was a man willing to be recruited rather than an enemy.

It seemed to work.

“Well, I suppose – “ the man started but was cut off by someone bashing the tavern door open.

“Your finest ale and your finest woman!” the man called jovially.

“Shit,” Uhtred said.

“Shit,” Finan echoed.

“Uhtred?!”

Uhtred was up on his feet drawing Serpent-Breath in a heartbeat, Finan drawing Soul Stealer in the same moment.

Of all the people in the goddamn world it had to be Haesten.

Haesten roared and more than a few of the tavern’s patrons drew their own swords. The barkeep scurried out of the way and then they were fighting their way out of there.

Haesten kept lunging at Uhtred but Uhtred managed to beat him back whilst Finan cut down any of Haesten’s followers that came near with deadly precision.

Eventually they maneuvered their way back to the tavern door and as soon as there was a lapse in the attack they bolted. 

They managed to get to the horses before Haesten and his men caught up with them and then they were away, riding through the rain and the dark as if Fenrir himself was snapping at their heels.

Uhtred wasn’t sure how much time passed but he suddenly found himself laughing.

“Sweet Jesus, you’re mad,” Finan yelled across at him, Uhtred just laughed more.

Eventually they slowed, sure that they were no longer being followed. The rain was still beating down and they needed shelter. Uhtred spotted an abandoned barn at the crest of a hill and led them over.

They couldn’t risk a fire being seen but it was at least dry.

Horses tended to, Uhtred and Finan slumped down in a corner.

The rain started to ease off and the moon flickered weakly through the barn doors.

“Of course it’s Haesten,” Uhtred huffed, “a bigger turd there never was.”

“You’re not wrong,” Finan chuckled.

“Ugh, I’m soaked,” Uhtred complained, taking his cloak off, too damp to do any good.

“You’re bleeding is what you are,” Finan growled, taking Uhtred’s forearm in hand.

“Huh, so I am,” Uhtred replied, “it’s only a scratch by the looks, didn’t even notice it at the time.”

“You should still bind it,” Finan insisted, ripping a strip of cloth from the bottom of his tunic and pulling Uhtred’s forearm back towards him to rest on his knee.

Uhtred watched as Finan pulled the tattered remains of Uhtred’s sleeve back from the wound. Finan prodded gently at the gash, he wasn’t any expert but he had seen enough battle wounds and the cut seemed clean enough so he began to wrap it.

Despite the freezing rain they had ridden through, Finan’s fingers were warm and Uhtred felt an answering warmth within him.

Finan was so focused on his task that he only realised Uhtred had been staring at him the whole time when he finished and looked up.

“What?” Finan asked, withdrawing his hand.

Uhtred halted the movement, trapping Finan’s hand in his. He took in a shuddering breath and screwed up his resolve. 

“I need you to understand,” Uhtred began slowly, “that everyone I have ever loved has either died or eventually hated me,”

“That’s daft and not true,” Finan hissed.

“It is true Finan, it is true and I need you to know that because if I lost you it would break me, do you understand?” Uhtred spoke fiercely, his grip on Finan’s hand had probably turned bruising but neither of them cared much.

“You won’t lose me,” Finan said finally and Uhtred wanted so badly to believe him so he kissed him.

And it was everything that had kept Uhtred awake at night, everything that made him burn from the inside out.

Finan pushed back into the kiss with a groan, even here, even now, Uhtred’s match. Uhtred’s hand moved to Finan’s jaw, pulling him closer and Finan’s mouth was wet and warm on his.

They both shivered when Uhtred deepened the kiss, tongue meeting Finan’s and Finan was pulling at Uhtred’s side, his fingers digging into the mail in a way that had to hurt. They breathed against each other, lips soft and urgent and Uhtred felt dizzy with want, chasing the lingering taste of ale and heat.

Finan pulled back slightly to bite down gently on Uhtred’s bottom lip and Uhtred can’t help the moan that’s torn from him when Finan sucks his bottom lip into his mouth to soothe the hurt.

By the time Finan pulled back slightly to rest his forehead against Uhtred’s they were both breathing heavily.

“Was it Sihtric?” Finan asked eventually, “I told that arse not to meddle.”

“No, it was Osferth, though not intentionally – wait Sihtric knows as well?” Uhtred was startled into lifting his head to meet Finan’s gaze.

Finan chuckled but at least had the decency to look a little chagrined.

“They both cornered me one night, got me drunk and had it out with me. That space between your ears may be empty but they spotted it a mile off. Told me I should either leave or find someone else if I had even a shred of self-preservation,” Finan shrugged then grinned, “lucky for you I do not.”

Uhtred let out a surprised bark of laughter.

“Don’t be angry at them, I asked them not to say anything,” Finan continued, “and they’ve been good at either cheering me up or getting me drunk or both whenever I got too self-pitying the last few years.”

Uhtred hummed his agreement that he wasn’t angry with their friends, he knew they were as loyal to Finan as they were to him and could only appreciate it. Then he paused.

“Years?” Uhtred asked softly.

“Jesus and Joseph, you really do have nothing between those ears do you?” Finan laughed, rapping his knuckles gently against Uhtred’s forehead.

Uhtred glared but Finan dropped his hand to Uhtred’s jaw and pulled him into another kiss.

It was slow and chaste but it made Uhtred’s teeth ache.

When Finan pulled back to rest his forehead against Uhtred’s again he kept his eyes closed, Uhtred watched him quietly.

“I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you, Uhtred Ragnarson,” Finan breathed.

Uhtred felt as though his own breath was trapped in his throat, Finan opened his eyes and met Uhtred’s stare. He looked vulnerable and a little sad but calm.

Uhtred couldn’t stand it and surged forward with enough force to push Finan onto his back as he caught Finan’s lips between his again, determined to make Finan forget that sadness.

Uhtred was not a man who spoke of love easily but right now he could show it, he wanted to show it.

He took Finan’s head between his hands and kissed him until he keened.

When they got home they would have to make plans to deal with Haesten and make sure the harvest was being brought in and a million other things but for now home was here, home was them.

**Author's Note:**

> The last part kind of got away from me because I have a lot of feelings about Uhtred struggling to believe he's deserving of love but there you have it. Thank you so much for reading :)
> 
> *This line is paraphrased from the books, I lost the bookmark so god knows which one but just a general disclaimer.
> 
> Edit: If anyone wants to say hi I'm on tumblr [here](https://crookes-library.tumblr.com)


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